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Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Finding Grace In Her Smile: A Five Part Story

Finding Grace In Her Smile: A story of discovering love and grace when all seemed lost.

{Part II: The Long Road Ahead}

I never thought it would happen to me. The possibility never crossed my mind.

When he said it I went numb. I just listened to him continue to tell me that chances were I was having a miscarriage. This term, although so commonly used, seems so empty because to me, I was possibly losing my baby. He ended the conversation by informing me he had scheduled an internal ultrasound for the next day to confirm results. I laid my head in my hands and every fiber in my being slumped into the fetal position. I wept. I wept and wept.

I remember pulling into the parking lot of the clinic. I found a parking spot away from the other vehicles. I rested my forehead on my hands holding tight to the steering wheel and allowed myself to become so raw with God. I begged him. I pleaded with him to let this all be a fluke and a baby would still be thriving inside my womb. I felt a peace come over me that I was sure was God confirming me that it was all going to be ok.

I remember the ultrasound being painful. I asked the technician if that was how it was supposed to be. She answered very monotone. She wasn’t comforting. She seemed lifeless. I thought, “You are paid to view life or to confirm life and you, yourself, do your job lifeless.” It was a little too ironic. I also went to get blood tests that would also confirm results.

I waited the weekend until Monday in hopes to receive the call informing me of the results like I was told the call would come. It never came. Tuesday I called my doctor. No results yet. I waited.

That Wednesday evening our marriage group was meeting like they do every week, but I called to say we wouldn’t be attending that night because I was struggling with the news I was WAITING to hear. Instead, I was encouraged to attend so that my husband and I could be prayed over. We did. As a group we went to the emergency room where I took another ultrasound. The group, although it was late at night, called babysitters and decided to stay with us to support us in the news. {You might be asking yourself why we went to the emergency room. I was not in pain. I was not bleeding. I was uneducated and told that the emergency room could get answers for me quicker and apparently my doctor did not appreciate me going there}.

After multiple tests, I was sitting on a chair in the ER doctors office, where she showed me my lab results as well as my ultrasound. I was losing my baby. The doctor was warm and caring and allowed me time to sit there. She grabbed my hand and let me cry. She just sat there silently. It was what I needed. I saw my husband walk out to the lobby where our marriage group was waiting. I saw his head slumped down and them all surrounding him with their arms all wrapped around each other to form one big huddle.

That night, my husband and I sat on our bed with our legs crossed and our hands in each others. We prayed. We asked God to let this form a purpose. Let our little one exist for a purpose, even if it was for a few weeks of life.

After getting a good lecture from my doctor’s nurse and then doctor about how rude and unnecessary it was to go to the emergency room, I arrived to take a pill that would speed up the miscarriage process. My doctor was concerned that I would get an infection since it wasn’t happening on its own. The pain was excruciating. That night, I went in for a D&C. The next day, my womb was lifeless and empty.

It took a while for that peace that I had found that day in the parking lot to resonate deep in my soul again. I wondered why I had felt that peace if I was still having a miscarriage. Summer was coming to an end and I was still trying to understand that peace.

*****

I was asked to write a skit to perform for our Church’s Women’s Christmas Banquet. What to write? My heart was still heavy over the loss of our first baby and the idea to write a skit about it kept coming to my head. So I sat down and wrote and on that Saturday morning of the banquet, this is what I performed…

I received an overwhelming response of women in attendance about their own experiences of losing a child. Often my story seemed so small compared to the loss they experienced. But I knew my loss was not in vain. I was to be strong for others. I finally understood that peace. Everything was going to be OK. I shared my experience two other times at church functions and the response continued to inspire me.

I was ready to take my experience and give it back to a world of hurting.

Four months after that Christmas performance, my husband and I realized we needed to completely sacrifice ourselves for what we were created to do. We felt a personal conviction to let go of our selfish desires and the American Dream that we were chasing. We knew we wanted kids, but since that at the moment, it wasn’t in the bag for us, our hearts felt fueled to dedicate our lives to loving children whose parents wouldn’t or couldn’t take care of them. So, we decided to give up all of our possessions (big items were sold for income while everything else was donated to a local charity), say goodbye to our jobs, and treck the 1,500 miles to a Ranch in Arkansas where seven boys would await us. So on May 12, 2009 we said goodbye to family and oddly enough, hello to another set of two pink lines…

9 comments:

I await part 3 with bated breath, even though I already know what's going to happen :-)

All I can say is God is good all the time, all the time God is good, even in the darkest part of the night.

I REALLY think you should give me Parts 3, 4, and 5 to preview and edit for grammatical and conventional errors. Yeah, that's it! They need to be checked for errors before you post them...PLEASE??!??!?

Oh my, I am sitting here crying and crying. I can relate to this on so many levels. My first pregnancy ended just like yours at 10 weeks. No heartbeat, no "normal" miscarraige, the D&C - I remember praying that same prayer, that it be a fluke, a mistake on the doctor's part...but it wasn't. I would have another one before I carried my sweet Robi - my miracle baby - not just "to" term...but past term. :) My little Mila (my "sweet one") and Junior (Zlatko's namesake) are in heaven waiting for me to hold them and touch their sweet faces. Heaven seems so much closer now that they are there.

Thank you for posting this. You are so brave. One day I might write my own story...maybe one day.

Oh, I am in tears right now, and I loved your performance. It was so creative and yet theraputic at the same time. I can't wait to read more...you really took this negative reality and brought meaning to it and inspiration...